Not When You're My First
by s1lverwren
Summary: Betty is tired of playing second fiddle to Jughead's novel. And she tells him just that.


Be forewarned, this is my first attempt at fanfiction. I'm sorry if it's really bad.

Here's to always being second place

Here's to always wearing a brave face

Here's to being a disgrace

Betty Cooper was a nice girl. Perfect, some would say. She had the perfect family, the perfect grades, the perfect attitude, the perfect look. She had it all. To herself, though, she was a less-than-average has-been who will never go anywhere with her life. Jughead Jones showed her through that. Betty was more than grateful to her boyfriend, who was there when no one else was. So, in turn, she was more than willing to put up with his constant need to write. It was his art, she understood.

She had long since become accustomed to the rhythmic sound of his fingers tapping away at the keyboard. It even became soothing at one point. If he was happy, she was happy. She owed him that much.

But, it had to at one point stop. Betty knew that she would always fall second string to his writing, and she was okay with that. When inspiration hits it hits. But enough was enough. She sat in a booth at Pop's, staring at his creased forehead. He'd been like this for the past hour.

This wouldn't be the first date Jughead had stopped to write on. On just their third date, they sat in complete silence, except for, of course, the sound of the keyboard. They had a movie date at his house that he hadn't even got to the opening credits and he started writing. A week ago they were in a situation much like this one and he had done the same exact thing. When she managed to drag his attention away only with food, Betty could see his fingers twitching because he wanted to finish his writing.

This date was different. She knew that it was their year anniversary. But Jughead didn't. Betty had been dropping subtle hints the whole week but nothing had gotten through to the boy. And here they were now. Pop brought over a milkshake for her, frowning at Jughead's untouched burger and fries. The man met Betty's upset eyes with sympathetic ones, knowing exactly what date it was.

Betty sighed loudly and looked at Jughead for a reaction. Nothing.

"Jug." A twitch of the eyebrow.

"Jughead." His hand moved up to scratch his neck.

"Forsythe." He blinked.

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third." No response at all. That's when Betty knew she was being ignored. Jughead hated his full name, saying it made him think he was his father. Betty had only used it once before when he and Archie had gotten into a fight.

"Jug, I'm pregnant." Jughead hummed in acknowledgement.

"It's Archie's." He smiled lightly.

"That's good," He replied absentmindedly. She knew he wasn't listening. He was only giving the standard response to a normal conversation.

"Yeah. He and I have been together for six months." Betty hated saying these things, but they were the only things that could maybe get the beanie-clad boy's attention. Jughead laughed softly.

"We're going to raise it up in New York alone. We leave in two weeks." The boy in front of her rubbed his eye.

"I'm sorry," He said. Betty had had enough.

"Jughead," She said, getting up and tapping him on his shoulder. His head shot up. "I'm going to the bathroom. Do you want me to get you anymore food on my way back?" Jughead sighed irritably.

"No, Betty," He replied, his annoyance very clear in his eyes. Betty nodded sadly and walked to the counter. She rested her head in her hands and sighed.

"You okay, Betty?" Pop asked her. He had seen the whole one-sided exchange. She looked up, blinking away the tears in her eyes.

"Not really. I know I'm not perfect. But is there something wrong with me that he doesn't like? I don't know the last time we actually had a conversation." The old man sighed. He knew Jughead loved Betty, everyone did. But, Pop also knew that the way he was treating her was going to make the one good thing in the troubled teen's life slip away.

"I don't know, sweetie. He loves you very much. Maybe he just doesn't know how to express it," Pop told her, patting her shoulder softly.

Betty shook her head. "Maybe you're right, Pop. Maybe he doesn't know how to show it. But, if I just leave now, he wouldn't know. As much as he tried to convince me I was good enough, he doesn't think I am." With that, she pulled something out of her bag and pushed herself away from the counter.

As she passed Jughead in his booth, she pushed down the lid of the laptop. "What the hell, Betty?" Jughead nearly shouted, gathering the attention of the diner's occupants.

"I'm tired of being second place to your book." Betty said softly. She threw down the piece of paper in her hand and ran out of Pop's, crying. Jughead looked confusedly down at the booth table to the paper Betty gave him. He recognized her handwriting from the heading.

 _Dear Jughead,_

 _If you're reading this, it means I've snapped. It was probably at Pop's at about nine at night, just the two of us. The circumstances I've been dealing with for quite a while got too much for me and I took it out on you. So for that I'm sorry._

 _I know your book is your art, your Mona Lisa. But I'm your girlfriend. I'm okay with being ignored for your writing because, as a writer myself, I know inspiration hits when it hits. But the thing is that I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first. I'm writing this at Pop's with you sitting across from me, typing away at your computer. You've been at it for hours._

 _Do you remember when we watched Murder on the Orient Express?' Because I do. You were so excited. 'Any movie with a serial killer and a mystery is sure to be good.' You were determined that you would solve it before the movie was over. You didn't even get through the previews. I sat and watched the whole movie alone, but not really alone. You were next to me, but it felt like you were on a whole other world._

 _Next week is our year anniversary. I doubt you'll even notice. We'll go to Pop's like every other time. We'll talk for a few minutes, and Pop will bring us food. I'll thank him and then look at you. You'll have your laptop open and won't hear anything I say for the next couple of hours. I pray this doesn't happen._

 _Because we haven't actually talked in the past month, I'll tell you what's going on. Polly had the twins, Juniper and Dagwood. Horrid names, I know. Chic has gotten worse and I swear, everywhere I turn he's there. He's not a Cooper, though. I sent in some of his DNA to the lab and no Blossom blood was in it. My mom and Dad are getting a divorce. I know you've gone through that, and you probably won't care, but it's a big deal to me. My family is falling right back apart, just when I thought it was being fixed._

 _I've heard that many couples fall out due to miscommunication. I want us to fix this, so I'll do the talking because we both know you don't like to talk very much. I'm sorry for lying to you. I told you that I was okay. I'm not. I still dig my nails into my palms as a way to keep the darkness at bay. Chic told me that to keep his darkness away, he webcams. I tried it and it worked. But I stopped because I knew that you wouldn't want me to do it, and that it's wrong. I know that you being a serpent is taxing, and I'm proud of you for it. I know it drove us apart, but I want you to know that I love you and probably always will. But I can't keep doing this._

 _I'm not breaking up with you. I couldn't. But I am taking a break. We are. We are going to until you realize why I'm doing it. I won't date anyone, won't kiss anyone except you. We just won't act like a couple. Not until you understand why this letter was written. Come find me when you're ready and until then, I'm sorry._

 _I love you,_

 _Betty Cooper_

Jughead looked up from the letter his girlfriend had written him, blinking rapidly. He looked across the booth at the now abandoned vanilla milkshake. He didn't even realize what day it was. He shut his laptop and leaned his head against the window. Jughead knew dating him was hard, but he didn't notice how much of a toll it was taking on Betty. Her written words spun around and around in her head.

 _"You probably won't care."_

 _"I told you that I was okay. I'm not."_

 _"You were on a whole other world."_

Jughead didn't often cry. The only other time he could think of him crying was when his dad got arrested for the murder of Jason Blossom. And now he sat on his bedroom floor, crying because the only thing he lived for had to leave. She had to leave because of his ignorance. The thought that she may never come back was terrifying to him. Betty had done so much for him and he only repaid her by ignoring her.

He jumped when loud bangs came from his front door. Slowly he made his way to the noise, rubbing his eyes so no one could see that he'd been crying. The door swung open just as he got there. The angry face of Veronica Lodge met him. Although he had well over half a foot on her, he felt like he was an inch tall compared to the height of his anger.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" He shrunk away from her loud shout. Veronica took the opportunity to enter the home and slammed the door. "SHE CAME TO THE PEMBROOKE AND COLLAPSED INTO MY ARMS! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!"

The overwhelming rage coming from the raven haired girl was something Jughead had never seen from her before. With shaky hands, he reached into his back pocket to pull out the letter Betty gave him. He pushed it into Veronica's hands before sitting down and hiding his face in his hands.

Veronica looked up from the letter her best friend had written. She understood why the blonde had barely even made it inside. Her eyes sharpened when they focused on the huddled form of Jughead.

"Look Jughead," He raised his head to look at her. "You made a mistake. A big one. It may even be unforgivable if it was any one else. But this is Betty. She loves you with every inch of her heart. But her heart is in tatters now. Even Archie knew it was your anniversary, for god's sake. Archie doesn't even know what day of the week it is. You messed up, Jughead, plain and simple." Jughead's head hung low with shame. The fact that Veronica wasn't yelling, and that she was just speaking in normal tones made it all worse.

"What can I do to make it up to her?" His voice came out low and gravelly. Veronica thought for a second. She opened her mouth, sighed, and shut it again.

"I don't know, Jughead. I really don't know. I've never seen Betty the way she was at my house and in this letter." She held up the piece of paper. "But I think I know Betty. She'll let you back in. But, for the sake of your relationship, give it time. Two weeks, a week even, should be enough. Just give her time. That girl has been through enough heartbreak and terror to last a lifetime. Give her a period to reheal." Jughead nodded. He knew that Veronica was telling the truth. He was toxic to be around. Betty had said enough in her letter to let him know that he can't keep letting her fall second place to a book that would probably never even be published. He had to think of a way to make it better. He knew that time would be the only way to find it.

 _"We haven't actually talked in a month."_

 _"Her heart is in tatters now."_

 _"I can't keep doing this."_

 _"Come find me when you're ready."_

A month later Jughead walked into Pop's, his laptop bag, as always, on his side. His eyes scanned the empty diner, looking for one specific girl. He sighed when his search became fruitless. Pop walked over to the tired teen.

"She's not here, Jug. Hasn't been in a while," The old man said softly. He knew about what happened between Betty and Jughead. Betty had told him one evening over a cup of coffee after Pop asked why he never saw the two of them together anymore. He had sighed sadly at the situation.

"Thanks, Pop. My usual?" Jughead asked with a strained smile. Pop nodded his head and went to work behind the counter. Jughead sat at his normal booth. He opened his laptop and opened a new file. He went to work soon afterward with a more passionate fervor than ever. When Pop did his rounds, he frowned slightly at the boy, knowing that writing was the reason Jughead lost Betty. But when the boy looked up and met his concerned eyes, he knew something was different. Jughead turned his sacred laptop towards the older man. As Pop's eyes scanned down the work, he finally understood what Betty meant to Jughead. He smiled at the beanie-wearing teen and got up.

 _"i'm tired of being second place to your book."_

 _"I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first."_

 _"For the sake of your relationship, give it time."_

Jughead looked up from his writing to meet a pair of kind green eyes. He smiled at her.

"It's been a while," He told her. Betty smiled softly and looked down at her hands.

"It has. I see you're still writing in a booth at Pop's."

"That I am. How have you been?"

"Healing. I've cut back with my nail-digging. How have you been?"

"Dealing. Missing you." His eyes met hers once again. They both smiled. "Look, Betty, I know we're not going to go back to the way we were before. I caused that and I wholeheartedly regret it. But, I'm going to try and fix it, just like you suggested." He patted his jacket pocket, where he's carried the letter since he got it.

"You still have it?" Her eyes were soft as she asked him why.

"Of course I do. It's the only contact I've had from you in six weeks. Betty, I really missed you."

"I missed you too, Jug. I thought you didn't want to fix it when you didn't try to talk to me. I got really worried."

"No, no, no, Betty," He reached his hands across the table to grab hers. He found it a good sign when she didn't pull them away. "I didn't try and find you because I wanted to give you time away from the toxicity that was me. You did nothing wrong." She squeezed his hands in thanks.

"I want you to read something." Jughead told her. Betty looked shocked. Jughead never let anyone read any of his private writings. But the sincerity in his eyes made her think he meant it.

"Okay." Jughead slid his laptop across the table.

"Don't judge me. It's not very good, but it was the only way I could get my feelings across." Betty nodded and started to read.

 _Dear Betty,_

 _I'm writing this right now with no hope that you'll ever get close enough again to me to read it. But that's no matter. All that matter's is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I made you feel like you were less important to me than this book. I'm sorry that I made you feel like I was on a whole other world. I'm sorry I made you collapse into Veronica's arms, not mine, on our anniversary. I'm sorry._

 _Before I had you, I had no one. I had nothing except this book. This book was, as you appropriately called it, my Mona Lisa. It was the only constant thing I had in my life. But then you came along. You. You were everything I was not. Kind, smart, beautiful, and so perfect to me._ _I could fill an entire letter just describing the way you looked and why you deserved the world. But I, unfortunately, have other points I must make._

 _That day in the Blue and Gold when you asked me to join, I'd never felt more wanted or needed. But you made me feel that way. Whenever you're around, I can't help but want to stare. A weirdo like me is never deserving of a girl like you. You made me feel like I belonged. And I could never be more grateful to you._

 _I'm not an expressive person. I don't like talking or showing my emotions. But somehow you knew. And I can't be more sorry that I pushed you away. This is the only way I can even face you because I am so ashamed. The only way I can face you is through paper. Not face to face. I am a coward through and through. I know you, you'll fight me on it. But deep down, you know. I'm a coward. I hide behind big words and veiled threats. You are the only one I've actually ever opened up to. Not my mom. Or Jellybean. Or Archie. And certainly not my dad. Only you._

 _You are my beacon in the dark. When I get into the particularly dark stuff for my book, you are the thing I use to keep me from becoming too absorbed in it. I would have lost myself if not for you. Those days I complete tuned out the outside world, I didn't realize the damage it could do to the one person I actually cared about. I am so sorry._

 _In your letter you were right about almost everything. The way I've been casting you aside, that I wouldn't want you to webcam. But, you were wrong about me not caring. My parents had never been on good terms exactly, but you grew up with your parents together. I care, Betty. I may not show it, but I care. Any issue that you ever have I will not say I don't care about because you care about it and I care about you. So, please, never say I wouldn't care._

 _One month ago today, you did something you should have done long before. You left and you made yourself heard. I heard you in that letter. You wrote it in a time of pain, pain in which I caused you. You wrote a letter to me, right across from me because you felt like I was too inaccessible. That letter was written with so many emotions and it's beautiful in the way all writing should be. But that letter shouldn't exist. It was written for and because of my stupidity. That is why I keep it with me. A constant reminder of the pain and suffering I've caused because I can only focus on theories and mysteries, not real-life._

 _These days I don't go a minute missing you, wondering "What if I could just be happy with the things around me?" I think I found the answer. But that is for another time. This letter is just an ongoing apology of mine to make up for the all-too well written statement of yours. I love you, Betty Cooper. I know I don't say it a lot, but I do. I'm afraid, I guess, of what the world might think of me if they knew me through and through. But I need to stop making excuses. With that I close. To a hopefully soon reunion._

 _I love you,_

 _Jughead Jones_

Betty looked up slowly. "Do you mean it?" She asked him quietly. Jughead nodded and she smiled. She reached across the table for his hands. He smiled right back at her. He knew they wouldn't go back to how they were immediately, but he knew they would get there eventually.

Review please!


End file.
